


Come Fly With Me

by thoughtsthatfester



Series: Missing Moments [1]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-08-12 02:09:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7916326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thoughtsthatfester/pseuds/thoughtsthatfester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gaby and Illya work on their cover on their flight to Rome and Gaby sees Illya in a new light. </p><p> </p><p>Missing moments from the film</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come Fly With Me

“Have you been on a plane before?” he asks.

 

“What do you think?” she snaps. Of course she’s never been on a plane.

 

“I am sorry, I did not mean to upset you. It is just, not everyone likes to fly so I thought perhaps you would like a drink before we take off.”

 

“Oh,” she pauses, “I would like a drink. Thank you.”

 

“I will get you one,” he says as removes himself from his seat on the aisle, presumably to go find a stewardess.

 

Gaby sighs to herself and leans against the window. She is terrified to fly, but she’s not about to admit that to him. Napoleon had a later flight than them. It would be just the two of them on the flight and then two of them in Rome, the two of them in a single hotel room.

 

She knows her fear is ridiculous. She knows it’s more dangerous to drive her car at breakneck speeds, which she often does, but it’s not the same. There, she’s in control. Here she is trapped and at the mercy of the pilot.

 

“I got you a Negroni,” he says, flipping her tray table down. He places the drink down carefully on a napkin.

 

“Thank you,” she says, mostly because she can’t think of anything else to say.

 

The stewardesses begin to prepare the cabin for departure and Gaby flinches as the plane begins to move. She sees that Illya does but thankfully he doesn’t mention anything.

 

“We should work on our cover,” he suggests.

 

She nods and downs the Negroni in a single gulp. “Can I have a vodka, on the rocks?” she leans over Illya to ask a flight attendant.

 

“Of course,” the stewardess says and Gaby turns her attention back to Illya.

 

“We need to practice telling the story of how we met,” he tells her.

 

“I think we have gone over enough how you backed into a tank…”

 

“And met the most expensive mechanic in East Germany.”

 

“How did you propose, in case he asks?”

 

“At a restaurant.”

 

“No, I don’t think so. I would not like that.”

 

“In your flat then, before dinner. I had a proposal planned at a restaurant but I could not wait once I had the ring in my procession so I proposed there in the living room.”

 

“I was so surprised because we had only been together for a few months and I thought you would leave me when you had to return home.”

 

“But you got over the shock, and finally sad yes.”

 

“And we missed our reservation celebrating,” she adds with a smirk.

 

            The flight attendant returns with Gaby’s drink. She disappears, presumably to strap in for takeoff as the plane begins its journey down the runway.

 

            Gaby takes a big gulp of vodka before the plane picks up speed. The cabin begins to shake as it prepares to leave the runway and she slams her eyes shut.

 

            “I think that maybe we are waiting until our wedding night.”

 

            “What?” she asks, her eyes shooting open. She is so taken aback by his question she forgets that the plane is hurdling forward at an alarming speed.

 

            “I do not think we would miss our reservation celebrating with sex.”

 

            “I have not seen my Uncle Rudi in a long time but I cannot see him believing it. I was a rebellious little girl.”

 

            “I cannot imagine any Uncle that would ask the question. Anyway, it is not for him or others. It is for us, to make it real.”

 

            “Fine. We were sleeping together but since we got engaged we are waiting until the wedding. Speaking of, where will we live after the wedding? I would not move to Moscow.”

 

            “Moscow is beautiful city. It is a good place to live. We will not live there I do not think, not right away. There is the resort to build on Black Sea. After we would go to Moscow. And in the summers, my Dacha, our Dacha.”

 

            “What’s a Dacha?”

 

            “Eh, a summer house of sorts. It is in the countryside. It has a garden to grow potatoes and apples. You could plant whatever you would like. And there is fishing and hunting. You could work on the car in the summertime.”

 

            “That sounds nice,” she admits. It’s then that she realizes they’re in the air. The dangerous part of the journey is over, for now. She knows her anxiety will return when the plane prepares for landing in Rome. “I still do not believe my Uncle would believe I would move to Moscow.”

 

            “He has not seen you in long time, yes?”

 

            “But I am still a good German girl. He would not believe I would marry a Russian.”

 

            Illya is silent for a moment. “As you said, you were a rebellious child. Maybe you are going to marry a Russian because you know it would anger your family.”

 

            “Maybe.”

 

“But I think it is love. Love is the explanation. You must make him believe it. Love, I think, makes people do things they normally would not do.”

 

            She nods, flagging down a flight attendant to order another glass of vodka, a large glass. She needs another drink, especially if he’s going to talk about love and look at her with those blue eyes.

 

            “I am going to drink this and I am going to try to sleep. Do not wake me until we are on the ground,” she instructs.

 

            He nods and pulls out a book. The flight attendant returns with her drink and Gaby downs it in a single gulp. She slips out of her heels and curls her feet onto the seat. She balls up her jacket and leans up against the window. At the very least she will pretend to sleep until they land. She hopes that the vodka and Negroni will hit and that real sleep comes. She does not like Illya like this, considerate of her feelings, worried about her. It would be much easier to hate him if he were still the monster who had chased her through East Berlin. It would also help if he weren’t so handsome. Even now she can feel her body reacting to the nearness of him. She can feel herself starting to like him. Good for their cover, perhaps, but not for her mission.

 

            Eventually the vodka hits and the rocking the plane lulls her to sleep. Soon enough they have landed in Rome and Illya is nudging her awake. It’s the best sleep she’s gotten in a long time and she’s confused, disoriented.

 

            She removes her head from Illya’s lap (she’s not sure how it ended up there) and shrugs off her blanket. It’s not a blanket, she realizes, but Illya’s soft suede jacket.

 

            “Here,” she says, handing it back to him.

 

            He says nothing but offers her his arm and escorts her off the plane and down the staircase.

 

            Rome is warmer than she thought it would be. There is a car waiting for them at the airport. It’s more luxurious than she could have imagined and she sinks into the leather seat.

 

            They are silent on the drive to the hotel. She is too busy taking in the sights of Rome in the late afternoon sun. It’s gorgeous – both the sights and the freedoms that accompany them.

 

            Illya checks them into the hotel. She cannot help but stare at the opulence around her. It reminds her of the Germany of her youth, when she had money and privilege. She misses it. But for the first time in a long time she is Gaby Teller again. Gaby Schmidt worked in a chop shop. Gaby Teller grew up in a stately home surrounded by beautiful things. It’s only as an adult that she realizes where or rather who those beautiful things came from, but she refuses to feel guilty about the only happy memories she has.

 

            Illya holds her hand as he escorts her to their room. It is beautiful, even more beautiful in her eyes once she sees that there are two beds. She flops down on one and watches as Illya sweeps the room for bugs. Finding none, he speaks.

 

            “We have a reservation at the hotel restaurant in two hours. I have to run an errand but I will be back in time to dress for dinner.”

 

            “Where are you going?”

 

            “Is not important.” Gaby opens her mouth but Illya speaks and silences her. “I have requested records for the room. They should be over by the record player. They are western. I thought maybe you would like to listen to them. If you are not happy with them you can call the front desk and ask for others.”

 

            “Thank you,” she says softly, thrown by how thoughtful he’d been.

 

            “You are welcome,” he says as he heads for the door, case in hand. The door slams behind him and Gaby is left alone. She is happy to be alone. The more time she spends with Illya, the more complicated things become.

 

            She flips through the stack of records and each is more fantastic than the last. These would have cost a fortune on the black market in East Berlin. She is in a five-star hotel, wearing a designer dress, and holding records she only dreamed of back home. She had dreamed of these things while lying awake in her flat in East Berlin, but she never dreamed she’d be sharing them with a Russian and a KGB officer at that.

 

            She puts a record on the player and cranks the volume up. She draws a bath for herself and pours herself a glass of liquor, hoping that the hot water, bubbles, and the burn of alcohol will distract her from the Russian or give her the clarity she lacks. She likes the version she’s seeing now, certainly more than the version that wanted to keep her from getting over the wall. She likes him. She likes him. She likes him. But she needs to push his buttons, challenge him a bit to figure out what the real Illya Kurakin is – who he is.

 

            She’s excited to find out.


End file.
